


Mahou Sexy Soldier Shiro

by teicakes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, Bad Porn Plot, Crack Treated Seriously, LITERALLY, M/M, Power Bottom, Size Kink, That's it thats the plot, look shiro's literally a power bottom super hero, who fucks his enemies to beat them, with a skimpy outfit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teicakes/pseuds/teicakes
Summary: Shiro's a magical girl/guy with the power to purify corrupted villains in a... less than orthodox, more of a ridiculous hentai-plot manner.Sendak's one of those such villains about to rudely discover exactly /how/ Shiro's defeated his other colleagues.Basically an excuse for extremely skimpy outfits and some campy Shiro/Sendak banter with porn.
Relationships: Sendak/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Mahou Sexy Soldier Shiro

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lovely @agilaodan on twitter. If you happen to enjoy galra or rare pair ships please consider checking out their art!

Ten minutes late and exhausted as all hell, Shiro stops in the middle of the street and stares intently down into his cup of morning coffee. 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” he groans, staring down into the dark brown potion of life. “They forgot the creamer. Again.” But of course, despite that he’s still going to drink it, slave to caffeine that he is. 

It’d already been a hairy morning. It’d taken five minutes to figure out the hot water in his building wasn’t working, and then only another three to complete an icy shower. Pair that with the elevator being out and the girl in front of him in line at the coffee shop demanding no less than six custom mix-ins, and no wonder he was already walking into work feeling tense and on edge. He could only hope that things would turn up from here when he finally made it to his desk and there were no ungodly stacks of paperwork to deal with today. 

He’s only four blocks from work, managing to make up for some lost time when all of a sudden there’s an ear piercing siren and the cacophony of shattering glass raining through the air and across the street. Shiro’s tie is whipped up into his face as a blast of air surges down the block, making the other office workers around him throw up their arms and stumble backwards. Not Shiro though. He’s frozen, fixated on the now blown out windows of the bank just a hundred yards away, alarms and customers screaming in every direction as chaos erupts. 

Deep in the pit of his stomach, Shiro has a feeling about what’s to blame. 

Unlike other passerbys stopping or fleeing, Shiro begins to make his way down the street, pace quickening with every step. He’s almost to the verge of jogging as he makes it to the neighbouring storefront, only to be met with a police officer’s arm jabbed out in front of him and a 50-something mustachioed cop yelling at him to “ _ stay back son. Bank heist _ ”. Shiro watches, heart beating halfway to his throat, as a pack of eight cops plus the one that intervened rush the building in riot gear. 

He holds his breath. Everything’s silent for an instant.

And then all too suddenly, the screams start anew. He can hear one of the cops shout for backup, hear another yell “ _ WATCH OUT _ ” before there’s a sickening sound of rubble flying and bodies hitting the floor. He winces as a helmet comes bouncing out the open door, the cries inside dying out one by one. No ordinary pack of robbers would be able to take on a police battalion like that, but then again, Shiro was sure this was no ordinary robber. 

Broken glass crunches underfoot as he sidesteps into the building, sticking to the shadows as much as possible as the final grunts and groans of the officers ring through the atrium. Shiro crouches behind a toppled garbage can just as another cop is flung across the room, body going limp as a ragdoll as it crashes through a desk. There are unconscious bodies everywhere, a few patrons, a few tellers, but by and large security of all forms, all strewn around the sole figure left standing in the room. 

Massive. Armoured. Their back’s turned to him, but even so he feels a shudder run down his spine. The assailant gives off a wild, unbridled aura, the dense fur at the back of their neck growing out in all directions like a wild mane. His arms, one prosthetic, one real, are as thick as Shiro’s own waist. Even before he turns around, Shiro knows what he’s up against.

“Galra…” he growls. 

It wasn’t like it was uncommon to see them amongst humans. The deli down the street from him was run by a galran family and even his best friend had galra blood. They were just another group of people living their lives and slogging through work, just taller and furrier than the average human. That in itself wasn’t the reason Shiro’s hand had dipped inside his shirt. No… All galra, without exception, had yellow scleras and dark irises. All galra except those overrun with dark quintessence. And as those glowing eyes devoid of pupils caught sight of his, Shiro knew what he had to do. 

In a flash he was on him, great hairy beast of a monster baring down. Shiro had only milliseconds to dive and roll out of the way of the massive prosthetic fist, the trash can previously protecting him shredding with screech of protest. 

“Now, what do we have here?” The galra spun about, chasing a scurrying Shiro deeper into the bank. He was massive, at least nine feet, if not more, all muscle and hair. Shiro felt his tongue lock at the chest slits of the suit he wore, like a second set of eyes boring into him. There was no mistaking it, this galra had been overrun with quintessence, being corrupted by the same higher power that had done so to countless others.  _ Too sensitive to it _ , he’d been told, and each time he came face to face with another like this he once again understood what that meant all too well. 

“Little wiser than your cop friends I see,” the assailant chuckles, weaving around pillars as he stalks towards Shiro. “Those pigs charged straight in for a slaughtering. Wasn’t even a challenge.”

Shiro backs up farther, eyes darting around for a sign of another soul. He spots a camera up to his left, right above the body of an unconscious teller slumped over an open bag stuffed with bills, only to jump back as something sails past his ear. 

“Drat,” the galra smiles. “Missed.”

Shiro doesn’t even have time to gawk at the wreckage of the bench thrown at him before he has to dive again, rolling sideways under the desk as the Galra lunges at him with his claws. He glances up at the security camera again, still peering down at him like an unfeeling fly on the wall. 

“Shit…” He scuttles backwards more, bumping against an abandoned chair as a chunk of desktop is ripped off and thrown somewhere behind the galra. 

“Come now whelp… You’re making more trouble than you’re worth.” Metal claws screech across the divider, forcing Shiro to clap a hand over his ears as he backpedals further into gap where a teller had once sat. “A smarter being would have left when they witnessed the raw power of me,  _ Sendak _ , but you…” Broken plexiglass rains down on Shiro, the galra smirking through the hole his fist had just made. “You seem to be lacking that survival instinct. Pity really, for you. I only have so much time to do what I came for, and sadly I’ve just used up all the time for mercy.”

Shiro feels his back press up against hard plastic and metal. He’s caged in, trapped between a counting machine and the villain. Sendak is prying away the last of the debris that separates the two of them, massive frame working itself closer and closer, abdomen starting to glow ominously as his eyes narrow to slits until the entirety of Shiro is cast in his shadow. He fights to hold his composure, to hold his ground, even as he reaches a hand once again into his shirt. 

“Praying now, are we?” The galra rips away the final piece of desk.. “Such a silly human custom. What is it then? What are you begging to protect you? A silly little cross? A talisman? Maybe even a sachet of essential oils?” He laughs, cruel and merciless. “Trust me, nothing you’re carrying will save you the hurt I’m about to bring you.”

Shiro lets his eyes stray from the galra’s for just one moment, flicking in the direction of the now-blocked camera. He can’t help but smile as he pops his middle button, fingers sliding deeper to brush his nipple. 

“Really now?” He hums, other hand sliding up to mirror the other. “Not even…  _ this?” _

And with a hard pinch to both nipples Shiro’s body is bathed in light. 

He can only just make out the galra’s cry at being blinded as the world fades away around him. His clothes dissolve, melting away as he feels the familiar warmth of transformation. His eyes flutter closed, arms extend as his fingers are slowly wrapped in ethereal gloves. His bangs whip back across his head, black locks fading to snow white as fabric slowly winds its way around his shoulders and chest. He can feel the power welling up in him now, giving him the strength to stand as boots form their way up his thighs and fabric flutters down his back. 

With a final surge of light and energy, transformation complete, Shiro pushes his hair from his face and glares down at his attacker anew. 

The triumphant look on the galra’s face is gone, replaced with something closer to bewilderment. He just keeps looking Shiro up and down, his mouth hanging open, so distracted by Shiro’s sudden change in appearance his arm’s now fallen limp to his side. 

“You’re kidding me,” he says. 

Shiro lets out a sigh and sets a hand on a cocked hip.  _ It was happening.  _ **_Again._ **

“You’re… _ you’re _ that human who keeps interfering with the greater plan?  _ You?” _ Sendak waves a hand up and down, gesturing at the entirety of Shiro. “You’re barely even armoured, let alone clothed!”

Shiro groans inwardly. He’d already had to get over his whole magical-girl style transformation himself when it had first started happening and the outfit that came with it ( _ not his first choice, by the way) _ , but it seemed like every new opponent he came across also had to as well. Somehow, despite all these over-quintessenced galra all seemingly associating with some common link, they never seemed to remember anything after the fact to actually relay anything about him back. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Can we just get on with this?”

“You’re not even wearing pants! Just a cape and a brazier! If that can even be called a brazier.” Sendak was now staring at Shiro’s barely covered tits with a bit too much intensity for his liking, glowing eyes locked on the two scraps of armour that did nothing more than push them up and together and barely cover his nipples. At least he wasn’t gawking at the microscopic scrap of fabric protecting his downstairs decency. 

“It’s armour, not that it even matters,” Shiro snips. “I can still knock you out and take you down with less.”

Sendak bursts out laughing. “If you think you’ll distract me dressed like this… this military whore you must be madder than you look. Perhaps you’ve come up against weaker members of my race than myself until now, but-”

He barely manages to dodge backwards, narrowly avoiding the high kick Shiro swings at him. What was left of the glass divider sprays through the air into his fur, victim to Shiro’s four inch heels. Sendak stumbles backwards, balance uneven as Shiro charges forwards with a punch, almost taking it to the face if he hadn’t shifted to block with his shoulder at the last moment. He falls to one knee, brushing the glass from his ruff as he glares back at Shiro. 

“Still think this military whore can’t kick your ass?” 

Sendak growls, and then all gloves are off. 

He comes at Shiro in a flurry of fists, claws swinging as he swipes to strike. Shiro dodges easily, darting sideways and dancing backwards down the aisle as pens and keyboards are flung to the floor in Sendak’s wake. It’s almost too easy, Sendak clearly flustered over him getting the better of him. His swings are wide, nostrils flared, the glowing panels on his chest flaring brighter. Despite his boasting, this might be his easiest foe yet. Shiro almost feels cocky enough to smile, and that’s his downfall. 

One particularly flamboyant dodge throws him off balance, teetering on the edge of turning an ankle and Sendak takes advantage of it. Shiro just manages to fling his arms up to block but the momentum’s already come at him, launching him backwards through fresh plate glass and back onto the bank lobby floor. He manages to roll back up to standing, the fresh sting of a claw mark on his arm. Not deep, but then again Sendak had barely glanced him. He eyes the glowing prosthetic with renewed respect. That thing was no joke, and unless he managed to convince Sendak it was no use against him, he’d be left without an opening. 

“Reconsidering, thot?” Sendak shoots him a grin as he rips through the desk to follow. 

Shiro snorts, cracking his neck and winds up his shoulders. “I was just about to say I should stop going easy on you. Then again, I won’t lie, I  _ like _ easy...”

Sendak’s arm clicks and Shiro can hear it power up with a whine. “Such a shame. You’d better be prepared for the hard I bring.”

“Oh,” Shiro smiles, eyes raking down Sendak’s figure, “you can count on it.”

And with a whir and a thrum of energy to his own arm, it begins again. Faster now, the two of them making swipes and dodges in double time, fists a blur or purple and white energy as they try to be the next to land a blow. Shiro narrowly misses Sendak’s shoulder, singeing a few errant hairs. He nearly catches three claws to the face the next swipe, needing to backspring backwards to escape to a millisecond of respite. Again and again they trade blows, sometimes clashing, sometimes missing, but neither of them letting up an inch. 

Shiro’s eyes dart around the bank for something, anything he can trap Sendak’s claw in. These turned galra were always the same. Whatever loaded them with quintessence always gave them a line of defense, something they valued they could use to protect the much more vulnerable tap to source of their corruption. Clearly this one was proud of his prosthetic and knew how to use it. Meaning he’s have to come up with a plan far more insidious than nicking a staff out of his hand. 

“Aggressive, aren’t you?” he whistles, dodging under Sendak’s next punch and aiming a swift kick at his ankles. “It’s like you can’t keep your hands off me.”

“Careful whore,” Sendak growls. “Or else you’ll come to regret that little joke.”

“What joke?” Shiro manages to land a blow to Sendak’s side, fist barely making a dent in the dense armour of his chest. “You’re practically dying to touch me. Not that you’ve been all that successful.” 

He smiles, enjoying the way Sendak’s temple twitches as the galra rakes his claws through nothing yet again.  _ Good. He’d found a nerve _ . 

“You mock, but it won’t be for long. I’ve never found a foe I couldn’t defeat, never found a sniveling little human I couldn’t crush under my boot.”

“Like this?” Shiro teases, faking left and then deking right to trod on Sendak’s toes. “Doesn’t seem too hard to do.”

“You little…”

Sendak swings wide at him, less careful, more exposed, but it’s the wrong arm. Shiro grabs it and vaults over it, legs splayed, groin out in a coquettish display as he flips Sendak the finger. He knows it’s childish, that he’s going way farther than he needs, but there’s something fun about getting a rise out of this particular galra. 

“How dare you!” Sendak whirls around to face him fresh, teeth seething with anger. “Flashing your thighs at me like a common streetwalker, dressing in nothing more than strings and pasties! You may dress like some sultry military official, but you’re nothing more than a common costuming cockwhore. A disgrace to the honor of soldiers!”

“Ex-military are you?” Shiro looks him over again, bouncing on the spot as he begins dodging Sendak’s punches anew. “That does explain a bit about you. Any chance you were in the invading corps?”

Sendak’s eyes flash and Shiro narrowly dodges his next swipe without losing an ear. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

_ There we go. An easy sore spot, one he could use to not only get one over on Sendak, but push him past the point of bursting.  _

“Tell me,” Shiro hums, hopping his way backwards through rubble as Sendak follows with fists flying. “How did it feel to show up on Earth ready to take over, only to find yourselves matched? How did it feel for your whole life to be dedicated to taking the field, only to be told you were no longer needed?” He smiles, glancing backwards at the space he still had behind him. “Or no… actually… tell me how it felt to have your emperor call everything off before you could even begin, all because he fell for some lowly human diplomat.”

“ _ ENOUGH!” _

Shiro barely has time to block his neck before Sendak’s prosthetic palm crashes into him, pinning him to the wall. There’s no chuckle, no noise of triumph, just a deep, seething growl. 

“The game is over.” Shiro can feel bits of dust and rubble falling on his skin as Sendak’s claws sink deeper into the drywall. “You’ve made enough of a mockery for your lifetime, and that was before you even  _ dared _ speak of the late emperor in vain.” Heat blisters over Shiro’s skin as Sendak’s prosthetic begins to fill with energy. “Your time is over, private pantsless. Do you have any last words before I end you?”

Shiro’s eyes flick down at the ominous purple glow creeping up Sendak’s wrist towards him, encompassing Sendak’s arm from the bicep down. “I guess… just four?”

Sendak lets out a snort of derision, nose flicking up in a haughty sneer. “Four. Hardly worth it then.”

“Not to you it isn’t.” And Shiro moves. 

In one fell swoop he kicks, legs snapping out to shoot at Sendak’s face. That’s his mistake, the galra hissing as he leans back to dodge Shiro’s heel, completely missing the true target of Shiro’s attack. Before he can do anything Shiro’s legs are wrapped around his arm, thighs hugged tight around the burning metal. Sendak’s eyes fly wide as Shiro shoots him a wink. 

“Thick thighs save lives.”

Without hesitation, Shiro crushes Sendak’s arm in two. There’s a terrible screech of protest, the tickling burn of sparks against his bare skin, and both Shiro and the mangled prosthetic fall to the floor, the taloned fingers twitching weakly. Fluid and sparks leak from the stump of metal attached to Sendak’s bicep, the waverless confidence on the galra’s face finally wiped away completely with a look of ashy horror.

“Not so cocky without your little toy now, are we?” Shiro asks, slowly releasing the grip of his thighs and letting the limp hand slide down his torso and settle between them. He purposely keeps his eyes locked onto Sendak’s as he drags the middle finger of the prosthetic across his navel and down the cup of his codpiece. “Thought this little  _ military whore _ couldn’t pull one over on you?”

“You…”

Shiro’s voice drops lower, taking on a fake syrupy edge. “Yeah… me. You thought wrong big boy. What you gonna do?”

He can almost  _ see _ the smoke pouring out of Sendak’s ears as he props an elbow on his knee and smiles up at him. That was good. That was what he wanted, an erratic, narrowly thinking, pissed to hell and back galra. It’d only be a matter of time before he created the opening he was looking for, but, well… what was the harm in poking the bear a little more?

“What? No more moves?” he says, batting his eyes. “You seriously have nothing else to offer without that arm of yours?”

A fist smashes into drywall some two inches from where his head had been a second before. Shiro cocks an eyebrow as he takes in the vein throbbing on Sendak’s temple. 

“Ah… so you  _ do _ have some spunk in you. And here I was thinking you were just another dried up prude.” He has to fight back a laugh as he dodges the galra’s next swipe, diving through his legs and jumping to his feet behind him. He couldn’t help it. The longer he fought like this the more he gave in to the ridiculousness of it and every dumb, cheesy thing he could say. He sends a swift kick to Sendak’s shoulder, enjoying the way the galra stumbles forward and adding some extra insult to injury with a boot to the rear. 

“You’re leaving your backdoor open private!” he shouts. He can already hear Sendak’s snarl before the galra even spins to face him once again.

“ _ How dare you! _ I WAS…  **AM** A COMMANDER OF THE GREAT EMPEROR’S ARMY! I had fallen armies kneel at my feet, created countless widows, ruled star systems with an iron fist! _ ” _ He’s flying at Shiro now, single fist whistling with each punch he throws, spittle spraying from his mouth. “I had won endless victories before you were even a zygote in your dam’s belly. I learned respect and power on the battlefield in a way you humans can hardly dream of! I’ve bested warriors who would see you as lower than the mud on their boots. That-” he snarls, lunging forwards and attempting to snap at Shiro’s neck, “is what I am.” The yellow eyes of his suit are glowing with the intensity of miniature suns. “You may think yourself worthy in your pitiful misplaced human ways, but I assure you, you are nothing to the greater universe.”

“Nothing, huh?” Shiro jumps backwards, continuing to dodge Sendak’s attacks with his arms clasped behind his back. “Then can I just ask one thing? How many of these  _ warriors _ managed to snap off that prosthetic of yours?”

Sendak retorts with an overwound kick rather than words. The vein on his forehead and front panel of his armour are bulging now, almost set to burst. Shiro almost feels bad for him as he easily dodges the move, adding an extra cartwheel in for show. 

“Maybe one? I’ll give you that, since clearly you didn’t chop your own arm off yourself. But still, that would make me...” he starts play-counting on his fingers, doing so even as he dodges several more of Sendak’s increasingly sloppy swipes, “somewhere in the 90th percentile at least? Assuming you only fought twenty people… but since you clearly have battled  _ hundreds _ ,” he cocks his head, continuing to lay on the saccharine comments, “doesn’t this land me in the top 1%?” 

“Careful whore,” Sendak spits, almost tripping over himself in his anger-blinded attempts to silence Shiro. “One more word out of that filthy mouth of yours and I’ll end you.”

Shiro shrugs, vaulting over Sendak and landing some ten feet away. “Suit yourself. Though, that’s not exactly a very orderly way to talk to someone basically equal to you. Top percent after all,” he winks. He knows he’s hammered the final nail in the coffin before it even happens.

With an ear splitting scream Sendak is overrun in the ominous glow pouring from the slits in his armour. Yellow turns to white to blue to purple, the entirety of Sendak’s torso consumed in light, the galra’s own eyes taking on an eerie glow of their own. The front of his abdomen bulges out, froth forms at the corners of his mouth, and with one final pulse of light the transformation takes over, the root of Sendak’s corruption springing free. Those glowing eyes turn on him once more, but instead of a glowing fist, something else far more frightening turns its way to face him. 

A four foot long, thigh-thick dick. 

Shiro’s entire spine tingles, cheeks clenching as the massive cock weaves behind Sendak’s wake, studded head turning some two seconds slower than the rest of his body. He knows this isn’t his first time seeing something like this, isn’t his first time dealing with it, but no matter what he can’t stop his body from reacting like this each new time he’s facing the barrel of another one. 

“Now look what you made me do.” Shiro’s tongue locks to the roof of his mouth at that. Gone is Sendak’s angry bellow. It’s replaced with something smoother,  _ darker _ , as the Galra strokes the massive girth with his remaining hand. “Seems like I’ll have no choice but to crush you with my other weapon. A beautiful irony really, for a whore like you to be destroyed by a specimen as beautiful as this.”

Shiro only dodges by a hair as Sendak’s over-quintessenced cock shoots directly at his head, smashing the pillar behind him into little more than rubble. 

“Pity. Missed.” But Shiro only has milliseconds more to react, jumping sideways as the sentient cock whizzes back around, hurting towards him like a ball python ejected from a canon and wrapping around the place he’d been only instants earlier. Shiro makes a move at Sendak, but not before he has to change course once again, Sendak’s sapling-sized dick chasing after him like a homing beacon. He just manages to slide behind a potted plant before the throbbing head hurtles after him, dirt and pottery slowing it down just enough for him to skitter away, Sendak’s laughter trailing after it. 

“You should be enjoying this! Isn’t it what you’ve been asking for dressed like this all along?” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like being treated to a nice dinner first,” he yells, dodging midair as the monster cock catches a light fixture, smashing it instantly. Glass rains down onto Shiro’s bare thighs and back. “Coffee at least!”

“A shame there’s none here. Seems you’ll have to skip straight to your just desserts then.” 

The cock catches Shiro in the shoulder the second he lands, spinning him off centre and stumbling across the floor. He tries to regain his balance, but by then it’s too late, the seismic salami hurtling into his gut and launching him up into the air. He’s at the mercy of it and gravity now, caught between the two with barely any room to move. He takes another blow to his back, then his shoulder, his chest, grunting in pain with each. He needed an opening… the right angle, but like this…

Shiro bites back a moan as he takes a cock-head blow to the face. Sendak wasn’t giving him one. He just needed to hold out… just a bit longer.

“ _ Ha! _ Not so nimble now that your weakness is your sights now are you?” Sendak lets out a snort of derision as Shiro’s launched up in the air with another hit. “You should have run when you had the chance. Gone are the days of you imposing on our plans, foisting our attempts to get what we  _ deserve _ . I’ll pound you into submission, grind you into the ground until you’re begging for mercy. You’ll be a pitiful mess, mewling for a shred of respite,  _ anything _ , and that’s when I’ll finish you. Ruin you so you’ll never be able to lift a finger in protest again. The light will be powerless to stop us.”

“That’s… no- _ OT-” _ Shiro gasps, clutching his gut as the monster cock bashes him skyward yet again. “ _ -not  _ going to happen… I won’t-”

“You won’t  _ what? _ Won’t keep allowing me to beat you senseless? Won’t be crushed beneath my power?” Sendak’s eyes narrow, his cock slapping upwards to swat Shiro into an ungainly backflip. “You’re powerless like this, there’s nothing left for you to submit and endure my pounding.”

“That’s…. That’s just it,” Shiro grunts, taking the next blow to his shoulder. “I’m not going to. It’s just not my style.”

Sendak smiles, tentacock pausing in it’s battering, waiting like a spear for him to come to it as Shiro tumbles through the air like a rag doll. “Humour yourself all you want. You’re nothing more than a troublesome tramp.”

Shiro sees the cock wind up, sees it pull back and prepare for another thrust into his solar plexus. He braces himself, preparing for what’s about to hit him next. He only has precious seconds to prevent disaster. He bites his lip, arm finding his side as he tumbles down towards its waiting tip. It shoots up to meet him aiming right for his gut, and with all his strength Shiro wrenches his body forwards, wrenching his ass right up to meet it. 

It pierces him, driving straight through his cheeks and spearing into his hole. Shiro lets out a cry as it slides into his guts, spreading the globes of his ass further and further apart until he manages to grab hold of the shaft with his hands, some full foot of it snug inside him. Sendak’s frozen, staring up at him in disbelief. 

Shiro rocks against it, testing his hold, a breathy moan escaping him as he feels the nubs of the head rub against his sensitive insides. Taking a monster like this always left him wanting a minute to adjust to the sudden stretch of his ass, but at least with his body the way it was, there was never any tearing. No… he’d taken things bigger than this before, maybe not  _ much bigger _ , but…

Shiro forces himself to breathe and relax, another few inches sliding into him as Sendak continues to gape.  _ God, it felt so good, _ he almost forgot what it was like everytime he did this. His hole clenches down hungrily on the tip, just begging for more. He can feel the start of heat beginning to spread from the junction of where cock meets his insides, the beginnings of his true powers starting to wake. 

“Enough foreplay,” he grins, rutting against the meatstick still outside him. The last of his reservations are crumbling away, leaving him with only the growing need to put Sendak in his place. Gone is his embarrassment about his appearance, the ridiculousness of everything happening. A different Shiro is staring down the shaft at his opponent, one ready to give him  _ exactly _ what he deserved. 

“You made the wrong decision the second you decided to whip this out. As much as you might have planned to pound me into submission, seems you made a fatal miscalculation. I’m not just some costumed cock-whore.” He squeezes down on Sendak,  _ hard _ , and smiles as the Galra winces. “I’m a power bottom. And I’m about to get to the bottom of you.  _ BOTTOMS AWAY! _ ”

He releases his grip and gravity takes over, inch after inch of fuckstick sliding into him as Sendak does nothing but gape. “How… how does it all fit?” he asks, backing away as Shiro seats another foot of it into himself with practiced ease. 

“There’s always room for a little more dick,” Shiro grins, bobbing up and down along the shaft as Sendak continues to back away. “Always more my ass will crave. There’s nothing you can give me I can’t take, and right about now I’m ready to take what’s mine.”

Sendak’s eyes fly wide. “ _ NO!  _ Don’t you dare _ ,” _ he hisses. “ _ This? This  _ is how the others were depleted? This is how you sapped their power?” He grabs the base of his shaft and begins to wrench it back and forth, swinging Shiro side to side as his asshole continues to gobble down Sendak’s meaty length. 

“ _ Oh!”  _ Shiro groans as Sendak whips him upwards, dick grinding hard into his prostate and making him see stars. “Tha-that’s right…” One hand shoots down to better brace himself on the bucking boner he was riding. The other sets itself on his middle, pressing into the bulge beginning to show in his stomach. “Took them fast and took them deep. Though…” he lets out another moan, riding into the next whip of Sendak’s dick to the side. “None of them managed the same amount of fight as you.”

“ _ GET OFF! _ ” Sendak roars, swinging the entirety of Shiro and his shaft careening into a pillar. “I will not allow you to milk me of my power!”

“ _ Ah-Afraid not…” _ he groans, spinning around Sendak’s shaft to avoid the pillar and grinding deliciously against the ridges of it. “I’ve already have a taste of it and not ready to give it up.” He grinds the palm of his hand down against his belly, right against where he feels the cockhead sliding deeper into his Tardis-like bowels. He can feel Sendak shudder from root to tip, the length clamped between his thighs hardening further. “Seems like you’re enjoying yourself too.”

“ _ SHUT UP!” _

Sendak whips his dick high, swinging Shiro skyward, desperately trying to dislodge his golden asshole’s grip. A full two inches slip from him and Shiro’s bowels ache with their loss, the fiery need for cock burning brighter as his rim clamps down on the next ridge, locking himself in place. Shiro grits his teeth, glances at Sendak’s target and braces himself. The wall hurtles towards him, faster and faster. Just a few more seconds… almost…  _ there! _

Shiro’s palms shoot out to meet the wall cushioning the blow as he’s thrown into it, biceps flexing until his face is pressed against cool marble, but not for long. With a grunt and a sigh he relaxes his ass, all tension snapping up to his arms as he shoves off, pushing himself backwards and hurtling down feet more of dick and towards a very shocked, very ruffled Sendak. 

He collides with the galra’s chest, sending him staggering backwards as his thighs clamp around his opponent’s waist. Sendak stumbles into a toppled desk and tumbles onto it, Shiro going with him and swaying forwards seated on his lap. Sendak growls.

“So nice of you to let me lead,” Shiro purrs, grabbing onto the sides of Sendak’s armour. “A true gentleman.”

Sendak snarls, threat rising in his throat, but just then Shiro unseats himself and begins working up and down his cock and all threats are silenced. It’s fun, that. Watching as Sendak goes through the five stages. First there’s the blatant shock, then the attempts to paw him off, but that soon stops. Shiro starts to ride him in earnest, the fat ridges of Sendak’s cock deliciously rubbing against his insides with every rise and fall of his hips. Soon those claws on his thighs loosen their grip, bracing him there more and more with every wet slap of skin on skin. He starts babbling, just noises first, then staccato words, airy… breathy… begging him to stop but without conviction. Soon enough those too change, and all that’s left are pleases and groans as Sendak’s defenses crumble to nothing more than the sheer willpower required to stop himself from wantonly thrusting up into Shiro’s welcoming hole. 

Filthy noises fill the air, slick squelches and and rapid breaths. Shiro lets himself let go, let his voice out more and more, gives in to his need to milk the tainted quintessence right out of Sendak like it’s the only thing that matters in the world. His hands more to his chest, squeezing and kneading the tender flesh to squeeze fresh sensations down his spine. His insides clench and ease along the turgid length, working it more and more, grabbing at it, massaging it, pleading with it to release its goods. The sparks that had appeared when he’d first taken in Sendak’s head have grown to a blaze, an all out heat consuming him, ruining him, and taking Sendak down with him. 

No longer is the galra fighting him. No, Sendak’s fully surrendered to the siren call of his sausage stuffer, bucking relentlessly into Shiro’s ass with all his strength. If Shiro’d dare to stop he’d surely continue, keep rutting up into him with wild abandonment, but that won’t happen. He won’t stop,  _ can’t _ stop until he gets his fill, get what he came here for and set the universe straight again. 

He can see it in Sendak’s face, see the way his nostrils flare, the way his chest rises with each heavy breath. He can spot the moment Sendak realizes it’s over, realize he’s lost, those fuck-drunk eyes snapping back to sober-clear for one final instant before he’s dragged back under, squeezing shut as he lets out one final scream and comes. 

It’s like a firehose in Shiro’s guts, come and quintessence shooting from their vessel and into his waiting ass. His rim locks down hungrily, sealing him and Sendak together as he milks him for all he’s worth, bowels working every last inch of that monster cock to get every last drop. Shiro feels his stomach swell, feels the heat inside him build and then it’s happening, that euphoric bliss of fullness takes over and his hips stutter one last him, those special words barely making it out his lips. 

“ _ S-S-SUPER SEMEN SANITATION SURGE! _ ”

Shiro’s vision whites out as the power takes over him, his entire existence turning to orgasmic bliss as his body fulfills his purpose. His climax crashes over him, sweeping him up in the sheer rush of quintessence filling his system, corruption dissolving out and pure energy passing on. He feels it flood his whole self, shooting through every last cell in his body before it cycles back, rocketing towards the source of it all and shooting out of his shaft. 

Shiro leans back, letting fat ropes of raw quintessence fountain out of him, spraying everything in his surroundings. He can just hear the noises of plaster self-repairing and glass reforming over the rush of blood in his ears, of the world going back to how it was. He keeps coming, keeps spraying every last drop as good as he’d gotten, until finally, there was nothing left. 

Shiro comes back into himself slowly, body finally moving under his own control again. Gone was the armoured silhouette of Sendak under him, replaced with a much tamer, but no less beefy form of a regular galra in a business suit. Shiro slowly unseats himself from him, the galra’s softened dick slipping out with one final squelch and a slight dribble of the last dregs of come. Shiro pats his unconscious form as he stands up, giving a quick glance around before tweaking his nipples and turning back to his regular self. 

“Thanks for the good fuck,” he says quietly, making sure none of the unconscious police officers had started to stir. He makes his way over to where he’d left his coffee cup, picks it up, and gives the scene one final look over. 

“Definitely enjoyed the quickie morning pick-me-up.”


End file.
